Words from the kitchen
Cooking fine
We were promptly seated
Down to dine
A feast of friends
On a sacred night
A warm embrace
And a fading line
Then she said
"Love is just a distraction
From all of the pain and the acting"
"No, love is a womb without cover
A notion that you're different from others"
Memories on the tip of the tongue
Slips away like a dream
Eclipsed by the thought of a stuttering sun
Tears seep through the weakened seams
Then she said
"Love is just a reaction to all of
The desire and attraction"
"No, Love is just the reflection
Of all of our hopeless conceptions"